


Never meet your heroes

by Vander38



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vander38/pseuds/Vander38
Summary: Inquisitor Cadash always enjoyed the Tale of the Champion, particularly developing a crush on the Champion himself, this is why she should never meet her heroes





	Never meet your heroes

It was somewhere between midnight and dawn but the Inquisition never sleeps, and more annoyingly, neither does the Inquisitor apparently.

"Josephine, is this so important that you had to wake me?" Malika Cadash asked sullenly, the large cup of tea doing little to keep her awake.

"I'm afraid so Inquisitor, the message demands prompt attention from you." Josephine said with a tone of genuine apology in her voice.

"Yeah but I'm in my pajamas!" Cadash replied in an exasperated voice, it's true, they were beige and had little nugs frolicking around them.

"They suit you very well Lady Cadash," Josephine replied smoothly.

Cadash sped up towards the war room, muttering under her breath.

Inside Cullen was there, did the man ever sleep? Resplendent in his usual fur and plate, did he ever take that outfit off? Malika made a mental note to not stand downwind of Cullen in summer. As was Leliana, an enigmatic smirk on her face as she read a letter. Iron Bull lent against a pillar, in his usual harness and trousers combination that tended to draw the eyes to his bare chest. "Hey Boss," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Josephine closed the doors behind her and she produced a letter from her clipboard, "This was given to us by Iron Bull's contacts and as such we thought you might wish to hear his thoughts on the matter." She said as she handed the letter to Malika.

The dwarf took it and read it, most of it was coded but Iron Bull and Leliana had put a translation at the bottom in her forward slanting close handwriting. She furrowed her brow in thought as she deciphered the meaning, she looked to the map, a detailed map of Southern Thedas, her finger traced the shores of a great lake, then she grabbed a detail chart book, thumbed through to the right page and compared the letter to the new details. A slow smile spread across her face.

"This is good, we can use this," she said aloud.

"Thought you would like it boss," Bull said with a smile and a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Yes, Leliana, I need you to send a letter, get your fastest bird," There was a pause as she looked up from the charts and saw the other figure in the room.

"Who's this?" She asked in a surprised high pitched voice.

He was sat half in shadow, his spurred booted feet up on a table as he leaned back in his chair. His armour was silverite plated mail under a half sleeved black and red leather tailcoat. There was a plate and a tankard at a small table by his side, a pipe burned slowly, his hands were armoured in light gauntlets and a glaive leaned against the wall behind him.

In his hand was a large sandwich.

He took a large bite before he seemed to notice that Malika and the others were staring at him, he chewed hurriedly, swallowed an over large mouthful and placed the sandwich down gently on the plate.

"Morning folks," he said. His voice was Fereldan, but with the edgy twang of Kirkwall, the voice of a man who has made a new home far from the old. It had a tinge of amusement and he had a smile beneath his beard.

The Iron Bull was first to respond, ever a man of action he moved fast for such a big man. Swifter than a blink he had the stranger by the throat and up against a wall.

"Who are you!" He bellowed into the stranger's face, the man was lifted and pinned, his feet dancing a foot above the floor, his hands scrabbled at Iron Bull's arm and his face was turning purple.

"Apples! Apples! Apples!" He weazed and Iron Bull, who knew a safe-word when he heard one, dropped the man on reflex.  
The man thumped down without dignity, he massaged his throat as he took a few breaths.

"I feel sorry for your subs big guy." He said as he coughed and stood. Cullen was there next, his long sword drawn, a burning look on his face, determined and ready to strike.

Leliana stood protectively in front of Josephine, a knife in each hand, produced from somewhere in her clothing.

"Garret Hawke," The stranger said to the room at large, seemingly at ease, despite being unarmed in the presence of three heavily armed individuals who seemed ready to kill him.

A gasp from Josephine as she recognized the figure, Varric's books hadn't done him justice, he was a tall man, broad and strong from a hard life, his nose had been broken twice before, his hair was long and had plaits, his beard was starting to tinge with grey, there was a large red tattoo across his face like a burn scar, his eyes were friendly but like a bird of prey, took in the details of his surroundings.

"The Garret Hawke?" Malika asked her voice strangely high pitched.

"That's what my underwear says," He replied easily.

"The Champion of Kirkwall?"Cadash pressed.

"On my good days, though I normally go by oi you or tosser most of the time," He replied smiling at some secret joke known only to him.

Cadash squirmed slightly and giggled, quickly tried to smother it with a cough.

She seemed to vibrate with excitement, her tiredness forgotten as she took a couple of steps towards him, then she stopped, looked uncertain, remembered she was in the War Room, as the Inquisitor. Then she remembered she was in her pajamas, they were beige, with little nugs frolicking around them.

She made a small squeal as she turned to the door, then back, "Wait here, don't go anywhere." She said, her voice an excited squeak. She nearly sprinted to the doors, pushed through, turned to get another look, then ran down the corridor, her feet making a small quick pap-pap noise that echoed after her.

There was an awkward silence as Cullen sheathed his sword, Leliana sheathed her blades as Hawke returned to his sandwich.

Several stories above Cadash quickly changed into something more dignified, a red shirt and heavy leather coat, she was giggling involuntarily as she swiftly moved around the room, pulling on her outfit, then she threw herself under her bed to try to find her shoes, "I hope he is okay," she muttered to herself in a slightly dreamy way.

Hawke was okay, he was the only okay one in the room, seemingly oblivious to the tension he was causing as he steadily ate his sandwich. Cullen paced like a caged lion, his footsteps irregular, never to be predicted, his hand tightly around the hilt of his sword. Iron Bull lent against a wall, coiled like a clock spring, ready to strike. Leliana seemed relaxed as she read the letter, but she was plotting murder, she had a dozen blades that the other knew nothing about to use, more still were hidden in her coat. Even Josephine, trained to not show emotions or tension was struggling, she sat at the table and toyed with a small mace.

The doors opened with a dramatic rush of air and squeak of hinges as Cadash returned. The others jumped then settled as she strode towards the table. She looked much more impressive in her outfit, a large knife and war horn on her belt.

"So Ga-, Mr Hawke, what are you doing in Skyhold?" She asked in a voice kept level by sheer force of will determined not to embarrass herself in front of, well in front of the Champion.

"Varric Wrote to me, said you had a problem you needed my help with," Hawke said, he stood and reached into his pocket.

Cullen half drew his sword and Bull stepped off the wall, and Hawke sighed, "It's an envelope," he said as he shook his head.

He handed the letter to Cadash who nearly melted as her fingertips brushed his, she tried to be unobtrusive as she smelled his aftershave.

She read the letter, using the time to settle herself and to not bounce around the room. The letter spoke, in Varric's usual style, of The Conclave and the explosion, of the events at Val Royeaux and then later, at Redcliffe castle. It told of the victory in sealing the Breach in the sky, then the loss of Haven and the emergence of Corypheus.

"You say you can help?" Cadash asked, all business at the reminder of her enemy. He nodded once.

"What do you know?"

"I know he is a darkspawn, but not a normal one, not sure how but he can come back from the dead," Hawke said.

Cullen scoffed.

"It's the truth Curly, we put that freak down once, he's powerful, not like an Archdemon, but, he spoke of Dumat, and the Golden City, like he had been there." His voice was grim.

"Yes he said the same to me, that he found the throne of the gods empty." Cadash said, remembering the battle in the flames of Haven.

"We fought, he lost," Hawke said casually, "Now he's back even though you put a mountain on top of him."  
He sighed deeply, "Seems he is a tricky little shit."

Bull let out a chuckle.

"I made inquiries, spoke to some people I know, people who know the Darkspawn and the stories, now one of them needs my help, his people want him dead and I don't want that to happen, and as he knows your enemy, you don't want him dead either I presume." Hawke said and Cadash nodded.

"Well then Inquisitor, it seems I will be tagging along for a bit, if you'll have me." He said lightly.

Cadash felt her stomach drop somewhere around the library, Hawke staying in her house? She tried not to giggle or look to eager as she nodded, "I'm, I'm sure we can find a place for you Mr Hawke," She said formally.

"Please call me Garret, Mr Hawke makes me feel old."

"Well Garret, I'm Malika, welcome," she said, offering her hand.

The handshake lasted slightly longer than Hawke was comfortable with.

"Well everybody, try to get some sleep, we got an informant to save," Cadash said to the assembled group.

There was a slow exodus and soon Cadash was left alone with Hawke, "Curly got mean," he said to fill the silence, but with a touch of pride in his voice.

"Cullen is, well, he's a little protective," Cadash said diplomatically, Josephine would be proud.

"Well, different words for the same intent," Hawke said philosophically, "Goodnight Malika," he said, turning to leave.

"Goodnight Hawke," she replied.

Then a moment later she chased after him, she would not miss this chance.

"Garret," she called and blushed as he turned around.

She produced a book from her pocket, The Tale of the Champion, much worn and loved, dogeared and well thumbed.

"Would you? May I? Could you?" she spoke quickly, heart racing, breathing racing, wanting to melt into the ground.

He smiled, then patted his pockets, "Do you have a pencil?" He asked. She nodded and produced a pencil. Then tried not to bounce around as he signed a long sentence into her book.

"You must get that a lot," she said to say something, anything.

"Not really," he said as he handed it back, she clutched it close to her chest.

"Well, it's been nice meeting you Malika, do you know where Varric might be? I should see him before I turn in." Hawke said.

"Oh by now he would be in The main hall, near the fireplace," Malika said. He nodded thanks and turned to find Varric.

Malika watched him go, sighing happily, she looked down at the book and slightly dreamily she made her way up to her room, it was only when she was putting her pajamas back on that she realized he had stolen her pencil.


End file.
